


Romance

by Robin_tCJ



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Connor has two daddies, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5544737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/pseuds/Robin_tCJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slash! And Schmoop. And AU Connor-has-two-daddies. Because reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance

Angel feels guilty.

Between demon-fighting, getting ready for Connor to start kindergarten, and Wesley’s work translating ancient texts for the local museums and libraries to make extra money to put toward Connor’s college fund, they’ve gotten to the point that they’ve had to schedule sex.

It’s like clockwork, now. Twice a week; Wednesdays and Saturdays. They can barely make time to do it those days, let alone the rest of the week, and some Wednesdays or Saturdays they find one or both of them is too tired or too preoccupied.

He knows it’s not his fault, or Wesley’s fault, or even Connor’s fault. It isn’t anybody’s fault; life gets in the way of sex sometimes.

But Angel remembers the days when he and Wesley first started sleeping together. They couldn’t go four hours without finding a secluded corner. Now they’re lucky if they have sex twice a week. And Angel misses it.

So one afternoon, while Wesley’s at the Getty Museum submitting his latest translations, Angel asks Cordy to take Connor for the night. 

“But…but…it’s Thursday.”

“So?”

“So it’s Thursday, which, last time I checked, was neither Wednesday or Saturday. It isn’t a designated Angel-gets-laid night.”

Angel doesn’t even blush about the fact that Cordelia knows his sex life schedule. “Yeah, I know, kinda the point.”

Cordelia arches an eyebrow but starts packing up some toys for Connor.

Then Angel calls a flower shop and orders 180 roses. 15 bouquets, five red and five white because they’re romantic, and five yellow because Wes likes the yellow ones. He chills two bottles of white wine in the fridge, hand-whips some cream, de-stems a bucket of strawberries, and lights fifty million or so candles in their bedroom.

He’s always known Wesley deserves to be romanced; it just helps that Wes likes it.

He’s spreading the last few red rose petals on the bed when he hears Wesley’s SUV pulling into the drive. 

He takes a deep breath and stands next to the bedroom door, listening for Wesley’s footsteps in the hall.

When Wesley’s about to reach for the doorknob, Angel opens the door himself.

Wesley’s face registers slight surprise, then a smile for Angel, and then he notices the rest of the room.

“Angel…what’s all this?”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it, it’s lovely. But…did I forget something? Our anniversary isn’t for another three and a half months.”

Angel loves that Wesley counts down to their anniversary. “I know.”

“So what’s all this for?”

“It’s for you.”

“Angel…” 

Angel can see that Wesley’s overwhelmed, and saves him from trying to come up with words by stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Wesley’s lips.

“I miss you.”

He thinks that might have been the wrong thing to say, because Wesley’s eyes start to mist.

“I’m sorry, Angel, I never meant to--”

“Shh. I don’t blame you. We’ve both been busy. And we’ve gotten into a routine. We used to make time for one another, and I miss that. I miss you.”

Wesley smiles gently at him, and leans in for another kiss, this one lasting longer. Angel wraps his arms around Wesley’s back, pulling him into the room, intensifying the kiss.

“What about Connor?” Wesley asks when Angel’s lips trail down toward his neck.

“Cordy’s got him. We’re alone.”

As soon as the words are out of Angel’s mouth, Wesley pushes him back, toward the bed, and unceremoniously pushes him down.

“You know, I had preamble planned.” Angel gestures toward the wine, the strawberries and whipped cream.

“We’ll save it for between rounds, shall we?” Wes replies with a leer.

Angel’s laugh is lost under Wes’ mouth.


End file.
